Traveling Soldier
by Dancing through the Storm
Summary: RobStar a sad story of a soldier sent off much too young, based on the song


1**Yes this is Rob/Star, not my usual, but I was listening to the song **_**Traveling Soldier **_**by the Dixie chicks and I really wanted to write a story about it, and it just seems to fit Star better then Raven. I hope you guys like it!**

**(I recommend listening to traveling soldier by dixie chicks while reading)**

**Disclaimer: not mine**

A young girl, barely older then eighteen with a pink bow in her hair awaited someone to sit in her table at the small café she worked at. She often saw soldiers passing through, heading off to fight in the war. Their bravery unmatched, for some headed off to certain death.

A man barely older then her entered, hardly old enough to be called a man. Hardly old enough to head off to war. Certainly not old enough to die. He ran his hands through his messy black hair, adjusting his army greens before sitting in her table.

He looked up as she came towards him. She smiled at his nervous expression. Her green eyes danced as he smiled back, what a lovely smile he had. He had a simple order, not worthy to remain in her mind. When she brought it to him she could not bring herself to leave. "Would you mind sitting down for a while and talking to me? I'm feeling a little lonely." His voice shook, as though she were scarier then the war itself.

"I'm off in an hour, and I know were we can go." He seemed pleased with this response, and remained in his seat.

Occasionally she would turn and meet his eyes, causing her cheeks to flame up. She would look away so quickly that her fiery red hair slipped out of her bow and into her face. She was falling for the soldier, so rapidly she wasn't sure when she had lost her balance.

When her shift ended the two headed out to the pier. Glassy water slapped up against the shore, causing boats to rock dangerously. The two walked along. A wind rushed through her hair, causing the long locks to brush his face. He laughed as she blushed. She reached hastily to fix her bow, but a hand stopped her. "It's so beautiful, could you please leave it down?" This caused her to blush again, but agreeably she tugged the pink ribbon out of her hair, freeing it all.

"I'll bet you have a boyfriend," He stated, stopping to look her in the eyes, "But I don't care. Could I still write you a letter back here? I got no one to write a letter to."

"I got no one to write to either, but I'd write to you everyday." He smiled as she said this, and she returned it.

They spoke for hours, simply wandering along. "I best be heading home now, I don't want my mama to worry." She stated regretfully.

He nodded, knowing it was best for him to leave as well. She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist. He pulled her into him. She stared at him with wide green eyes, as he slowly lowered his lips to hers. It was not her first kiss, but it was certainly her most memorable. Thy kissed for what seemed like forever, until they were forced to pull away for air.

"I'll write." he promised, and she could do nothing but nod. He pressed his lips softly to hers one last time. They parted for but a moment, only to meet up once agin in dreams.

He was gone the next day. She waited each day for the promised letter, only to be scolded by her friends at being lovesick. The day the letter arrived was a day of joy. She read it once, then again, and again. Soon she had memorized it. He spoke of his comrades, his friends, his fears. He spoke of the horror, of the excitement, of the dead. She sent a letter in return, talking of the strange people she met, of soldiers she saw, of work, of her family and her friends.

Letters raced back and forward between the young lovers. He told her every time he felt sad he would simply think of that day at the pier, of her sparkling green eyes, flaming hair and glowing smile.

One letter bore dark news, he was moving, and unable to send another letter for a long while. She was told not to worry, for he would write when he could.

But she did worry. She would check the mail each day, only to be disappointed. One Friday night her friends dragged her to a football game, stating that one night of fun was all she needed.

Climbing the stands she saw one poor soul weeping underneath the band. She felt her heart go out to them. She then promised she would have fun tonight, and write Richard all about it when he wrote to her. For one day, they would go to a game together, as a couple. She smiled at that thought, her first real smile in a long time.

She stood for the Anthem, and before they could seat themselves a man called out, "Would you all please bow your heads for the list of all the dead." She obeyed, wondering with each name if Richard had known one of the dead.

"Richard Grayson."

The second the name was read, Kori felt her blood go cold.

No one seemed to care for the soldier, except for a young girl, barely older then eighteen, with a pink bow in her hair.


End file.
